Wolf in snow- A ScorchClan Tale
by Stardust in my Soul
Summary: Because…. Scorchclan. (Also shh I am going to animate this later because I have no life) A writing idea given to me by Lightning and whisk, Where Wolfpaw (wolf in snow) Meets WolfStrike, the warrior that died saving him and his mother from a badger


Because…. Scorchclan. (Also shh I am going to animate this later because I have no life)

Wolfpaw sighed, his paws tripping through the thick snow. His breath escaped his mouth through thick crystallized fog. He tramped on. His grey fur was dusted with the falling snowflakes, camouflaging his white tabby markings. He closed his blue eyes, and felt a sense of déjà vu. A flash of something flashed across his vison, even though his eyelids remained firmly shut. A large long furred grey cat, smiling at two laughing apprentices. Sun filtered through the trees, and the apprentice's race of, leaving their mentor to trot after them with a grin. Wolfpaw shook his head. He stopped walking, blinking furiously. He didn't know where these flashes where coming from, but they weren't from his lifetime, he was sure of it.

Finally, satisfied the flashback was finally gone, wolf paw continued to meander, hoping to get to camp before the snow got heavier. He reached the stream, the cool turquoise liquid flowing sluggishly under a layer of ice. Wolfpaw hesitated. He was worried, he had heard tales of thin ice, and how dangerous it was. But camp was on the other side, and after a short check upstream and downstream he confirmed that there was no other way across. He carefully placed a paw on the ice, and upon hearing no signs of cracks, he took a small step. Then another. His heart was beating fast enough that he felt he would shake the ice from underneath him. Thud. What was that? He looked around in a hurry, the looked down. Crack! His eyes opened, and he gathered himself up to leap off the ice. Too late. He slipped into the water, the roof of ice stopping him from returning to the air. Like a seal separated from his breathing hole he panicked, churning the water up with his paws as he battled for consciousness. The cold water felt like it was gripping his fur, and the current pulled against him. He felt hopeless, he was a piece of prey in the waters paws.

The cold water was helping him drift to numbness, and he opened his mouth, his last life line drifting to the surface lazily. He thought idly that it looked ironically like a snowflake. He closed his eyes, his fur drifting around him like a halo. The last thing he registered was a tug on his fur.

Thud. The knowledge of wolfpaw's heart beat filtered through his brain. He took in a gasp of air, the feeling like sandpaper and dirt sliding down his throat. He coughed, then decided he preferred the feeling of air then water. Thud. The next thing to come back was touch, the feeling of coarse bristly grass digging into his skin. The rhythmic beat of a warm tongue sliding over his fur, ruffling it the wrong way. Thud. The muffled sound of winter filtered through his ears. Thud The smell of snow and water coated everything, but he had a faint smell of something clinging to his fur. Something he had no knowledge of. Thud. He slid his eyes open, blinking furiously to accommodate for the sudden light. A grey tail flicked to and fro in front of him, and he turned his head, the feeling like a muscle ache after a long day training. He opened his mouth, a groan escaping.  
"shhh" someone mumbled, lowering their head to lick the annoying area of fur that stuck up between his ears. Wolfpaw lowered his head.  
"Who are you?" He whispered weakly, hoping that the she-cat was friendly. Considering the fact she saved him from the river, he decided she was. But she wasn't from his clan, he couldn't remember her from camp, but she was to close to camp to be a loner.

But then that raised the question…  
"Who are you?" he repeated, a little louder. The she cat giggled.  
"Who are you?" she mimicked, not unkindly. Wolfpaw smiled.  
"Wolfpaw" He said.  
"I'm Wolfstrike" She answered. "Wolfpaw you say… Who is your mother? You don't sound familiar." She continued, a cord of longing ringing in her voice. Wolfpaw frowned, stretching his paws, trying to get some warmth back into them. The snow crunched underneath him.  
"My mother, I think she was a loner, although she had a tribe name. She was Flowers in breeze, and my full name is Wolf in snow. What about you?" He asked, not noticing her sudden jerk of her head as she looked at him. Her thoughts were running wildly, and she tried to act causal.  
"My mother was Willowbreeze, and my father was Arrow. It was when Scorchclan didn't have a lot of members, they had left because of a shortage of prey. My Mother decided he would help the clan. He did, for a while, but when she died he decided he didn't want to stay, and left me there. Say, is your mother still alive? I'm sorry to be blunt, but I think I knew her." Wolfpaw shook his head mutely, hoping she might be able to tell him more about her. Wolfstrike smiled.  
"Yes, I do know her! She has a kind heart. And so do you. I better be going. I'll tell our mother I talked to you. Starclan light your path Wolf in snow" She fare welled, silencing wolfpaws objections.  
"I'll make sure of it" She whispered, padding off into the horizon.

Wolfpaw couldn't help but dwell on her words, even after he forced himself to struggle back to camp. Even after he went to Asterpetal and gotten treated for frostbite, even after he had eaten a thrush and settled down in his nest. He still thought on her words, as he drifted off to sleep. How she had faded of into the night, how asterpetal had looked at him weirdly when he had said wolfstrike had saved him, how oakpaw shrugged when he asked him if he had seen a grey tabby when he was a kit, before Wolfpaw had shown up. How wolfstrike had talked in present tense about his mother, how she had walked off into the night, and even though the snow was falling thickly, how her fur had shone through the snowflakes.

And, even though when he had struggled home he had left thick trails in the snow, she had padded on top of the white blanket, leaving not a sign of her passing, as graceful as a swan.


End file.
